


While You Were Sleeping

by JessieMay



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Dark, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Missing Scene, Psycho Shane, Some Suspension of Hospital Care Knowledge Required, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-14 23:54:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10546510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessieMay/pseuds/JessieMay
Summary: A twist on the final scene between Rick and Shane.They both know there's no coming back from this, not after everything Shane had done. In what he's sure are his final moments, Shane makes a disturbing confession.





	

It had all come to this.  

Rick was pointing his Colt Python at the man who was supposed to be his friend; his brother; the man who'd left him for dead, slept with his wife, played father to his son, and who'd now lead him into a field to kill him.

Rick was pointing his gun at Shane.

Shane was pointing his gun at Rick.

This was it. Rick would shoot Shane first and that would finally be the end of it. He only needed to keep hold of the fact that the man in front of him was not his friend. He’d never laughed with this man, never joked about girls with him, never sat up late in a pub and drank with him then shoved him into the back seat of a taxi and paid his fare home because he’d been too drunk to remember his address.

_That_ had been his friend, his brother, his partner.  _This_ was a different man entirely. A stranger to Rick. Rick could kill a stranger. If he had to. He could do it. 

If he had to.

But Shane just kept looking at Rick with those dark eyes that were both wild and soft at once and so _damn_ _desperate,_ like he wasn’t the one who’d done this to them. He had no right to look so goddamn broken.

_It’s him or me,_ Rick kept telling himself. _Him or me._

Either Rick walked out of there alone or Shane went back and took everything Rick loved. 

If he didn’t make a move, Shane would. That was the whole reason they were out there, wasn’t it? Hadn’t that been the point of the whole charade with Randall? What had started out as a nagging hunch was now clear as day. Rick would even venture a guess that Randall hadn’t even hit Shane and that the wounds on his face had been self-inflicted. Shane was just _that_ level of fucked-up. 

That was good though. It would make this easier for Rick when Shane made the move.

Yet, somehow, Shane didn’t look any closer to doing it. In fact, he looked like he was drifting further away by the second.

To confirm it, the arm pointing the gun at Rick slowly fell to his side and Shane was looking nakedly at his old friend as if he didn’t know how they’d gotten there.

Rick knew the feeling. It didn’t help things though.

He kept his Python level, assuring himself again that he _could kill a stranger_ if he had to. He could do it. If he had to. The trouble was that Shane was looking less and less like a stranger with every passing breath. And now the gun had fallen to the ground and the man was looking at Rick like all he wanted to do was fall down next to it.

“Pick that up,” Rick said, hardly recognizing his own ragged voice. “ _Pick it up._ ”

Shane acted as if he didn’t hear him.

“ _Shane,_ ” Rick snarled.

He hated that he’d been driven to say the name. It was better not to think of the beaten-up, shaven, and in all ways unrecognizable creature in front of him as anything but the villain who sought to tear Rick’s life apart. No, it was better to forget the man who came before. Saying his name would only make this harder.

Still, it had gotten his attention. 

Shane was looking up at him now, waiting.

“Pick it up,” Rick said again, clear and assertive, a borrowed tone from the force. Shane seemed to respond it.

Looking down, the dazed man appeared to search for what Rick was referring to. Instead of bending to pick up the gun however, Shane lifted his gaze. When their eyes met again, it was as if Shane had recovered something else from the ground, a piece of himself, a shard of the old Shane. He now looked too familiar to Rick and the former sheriff hated it. The gun in his hand grew heavier.

"Dammit, Shane," Rick grit out. "I said—"

“I fucked you, Rick.”

Rick blinked.

“What?” His gun arm flagged just slightly but Rick righted it instantly.

“I fucked you,” Shane repeated. “In the hospital.”

Rick shifted his weight, trying to process this.

“It wasn’t even when all the shit started happening. It was before that.”

“W-what?” Rick croaked, his throat gone dry. He heard what Shane had said but didn’t understand it.

“You were just…just layin’ there. Kept thinking of how they said you might not wake up. I thought I might not get to… see you again. I mean, not like you were.” Shane swallowed. “So I…”

“What are you…Shane, what are you…”

“You were always so faithful, Rick. So loyal—to Lori. I knew you’d never do nothin’ to hurt her, even if you weren’t fuckin’ crazy about each other the way you were… I knew you’d never…never look at _me_ like…”

Rick could barely manage his breathing; speaking seemed impossible now.

“So.” Shane's dark eyes were glossy and looked almost black in the night. The blood that had spilled from the sliced bridge of his nose had dripped down to his lips and his tongue flicked at it absently. “I fucked you, Rick. While you was unconscious in that hospital bed. I wasn’t gonna at first— I wasn’t!” he asserted, almost defensive. “But one of them damn nurses who changed out your pan— she...she left your gown all bunched up…”

Rick swallowed. He couldn’t stop his gun hand from shaking. When he gripped the handle tighter to steady it, it only shook more from the strain. 

“I reached down to fix it,” Shane went on, staring distantly. “I saw your…”  His eyes flicked up to Rick for an instant. “You weren’t wearin’ nothing underneath. It was late and I didn’t see no one there and you were…so soft— _fuck.”_

 Shane swayed forward slightly and Rick took an instinctive step back, pointing the gun more firmly at the other man in warning.

“I never tasted another man before—swear to God, never even wanted to. But you… you were getting hard in my mouth like you wanted it, Rick— like you knew it was me doing it to you. Could've sworn you knew it was me, Rick. “ He waited, his longing eyes fixed on Rick as if searching for some confirmation, some clue that he hadn’t imagined it. 

Rick remained silent, jaw clamped so tight it ached.

“Anyway, didn’t know how much time I had, so I…”

Rick shut his eyes, in dreadful anticipation for Shane to say the awful words again.

“I..." Shane began. "I always wanted to kiss you, Rick." 

Rick opened his eyes.

"I watched you sometimes. Always wondered what it might be like. Never thought about doing that to a man.” Shane shook his head at the ground again. 

He looked like a guilty child and Rick felt sick.

“I just had to do it, Rick…had to.”

A wave of revulsion rose up in Rick at the idea that Shane had not only sucked him off while he was in a coma but then used the same mouth to kiss him while Rick could do nothing but take it.

“Stop,” he choked out, as if stopping Shane from telling the rest could somehow retroactively stop the act itself.

“I shoulda stopped then, shoulda stopped.” Shane’s hand rose to his head and thick tears beaded in his eyes. “I couldn’t though, Rick. I’m— I’m sorry. I pushed up that fuckin’ gown and I—“

“Stop _…please.”_

“I fucked you, Rick. Fucked you so hard, I thought I never fucked anybody so hard. Fucked you so hard I thought you’d wake up. Thought at least somebody would hear me and come runnin’. No one came though,” he said softly after a pregnant pause. “I spread your thighs open and fucked you on your back.”

Rick shut his eyes tight as his head fell.

“Then I flipped you on your side, fucked you like that. Wanted to hear you…but you didn’t make a sound no matter how hard I… I thought I saw your eyes move once,” he looked up at Rick. Again, there was that hopeful gleam in the dark wells, as if Rick would admit that he’d been awake the whole time; admit that he’d let Shane do that to him, that he’d been complicit in the act instead of utterly victimized. Shane wanted to be let off the hook, to hear that he hadn’t raped his best friend as he lay comatose in a hospital bed.

Seeing that Rick had nothing to add, Shane went on. “I wanted to fuck your mouth too but I was tired. I fixed you up and the nurse came back…she didn’t even notice how it was leaking—”

“ _Shane,”_ Rick’s vision was blurry. Distantly, he felt the stabbing ache of his shoulder. He didn’t know how he was still holding up the gun. 

Shane, as if realizing for the first time the effect his confession was having on his friend, looked ashamedly at Rick.  “I’m sorry,” he said again and bit his lip.

Rick now fought to keep the weapon up. He would not drop it. Refused to. He smeared his damp eyes across a shoulder, quickly so as not to lose sight of Shane for too long.

It turned out, the caution was unnecessary; the dazed man seemed lost in his own thoughts.

Suddenly, Shane’s busted lips spread into a broad smile. Tears still spilled from his eyes but he was laughing. Really laughing.

“ _Jesus,_ Rick,” he belted, deep and joyous. Both of his hands raked over his stubbled head as if he still had his thick mane. “Didn’t even take— didn’t even take the world to end for me to pull something like that,” he said between huffs of laughter too much like the man Rick once knew. “I just did that shit on my own— all me. What kind of man…what kind of man… does that to someone? Does that to his brother?” Shane’s laughter slowly ebbed and he was still smiling as he licked his lips.

Rick didn’t have an answer. Shane was right. He’d lost his mind and he couldn’t even blame it on the world ending. If he’d managed to do something like that even _before_ all hell broke loose, it wasn’t any shock what he did after. It was like this was all written. Inevitable. They were always going to end up here— Rick facing Shane at the back end of a gun. Never again would there be “Rick and Shane.” His best friend wasn't here, and from the sounds of it, he’d been gone long before the whole mess with Lori, even before everything else. 

Rick watched Shane steadily, his eyes now as dry as his mouth. As Shane came down, catching his breath, his deep, shiny eyes drifted over to Rick.

“I ain’t right, am I, Rick?” Shane asked at last.

“No, Shane.” Rick said and sniffed. “You’re not.” His voice was shaky but his finger was sure.

Shane seemed to take this in deeply, nodding at the ground between them.

When he met Rick’s eyes again he was composed, calm. He breathed in deeply, then released. In that moment, he looked more like Rick’s best friend and brother than he had in a long time. Boyishly confident. Sure. Ready.

Rick pulled the trigger.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I know. The title. It's fluffy and rom-com and has no business on this fic. I seriously couldn't think of another one. I'll work on it.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Let me know what you think!


End file.
